Climbing Into Trouble
by TimeGuardian
Summary: John and Scott embark on a day of mountain climbing, but trouble is awaiting them.
1. Chapter 1

_**Climbing Into Trouble  
**By Time Guardian  
Prologue_

Jeff Tracy was sitting by the pool perusing some reports when he heard a beep issue from the small video monitor he had positioned on the table beside him. Turning, he pressed a button near the bottom of the monitor, and the familiar face of Sir Jeremy filled the tiny screen. "Sir Jeremy Hodge, what a surprise. What can I do for you?"

"The new fuel being developed by our labs in the north is ready for testing, and I have a pilot taking off now that should arrive in the states in about a day or so. I'll can have them radio in to you as soon as they land, Jeff."

"That's fine. Brains will be coming back from a conference during that timeframe. Tell the pilot to radio his coordinates when he is ready to land, and I can have Brains meet the plane. Thank you, Sir Jeremy, this new and stronger compound will be a big help to our operation."

"Don't mention it. Sir Jeremy, out."

Sir Jeremy's face instantly disappeared from the screen. Jeff leaned back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He decided on a quick nap, and then he would continue reading the reports. It was a quiet day, after all.

_Chapter 1_

It was a cool and sunny day on the island, and John Tracy was standing outside by the pool appreciating the elements. He had donned his favorite pair of jeans and red shirt, and was trying to figure out something to do with his time for the next few days. This was one of those rare occasions when he was away from Thunderbird Five, and he wanted to take full advantage of the time he had before it was time for the next rotation change.

What he really wanted to do was go mountain climbing, but finding someone willing to go with him was proving to be a challenge. With Alan on Thunderbird Five and with Virgil and Gordon out on a supply run, that just left Scott.

He found his brother in the lounge, poring over some papers that he had in front of him. When John brought up the question of going mountain climbing, Scott laughed sharply. "Come on John, mountain climbing? I have a lot of work to do now and besides, I had plans to relax for the next few days and soak up some sun."

John shook his head in annoyance. "That's just it. We get to be in our nice shells all day, protected from Mother Nature and her elements. Just for fun, wouldn't you like to feel the rush of air against your face, with nothing between you and the ground except for a rope tethering you to the side of a mountain?"

Scott shook his head in annoyance and gestured to the papers he had in front of him. "I have work to do, and besides, we get to do that anyway on rescues."

John crossed his arms and glared at him in frustration. When Scott was involved with his work, normally nothing short of a rescue could get his attention. He would just simply have to appeal to his brother's sense of competitiveness. "I'm beginning to think that you don't know how to have fun. Okay hotshot, I will make a bet with you: Go ahead and come climbing with me just this once just for fun and with no lives on the line except for our own. If you do not enjoy the experience in any particular sense of the word, I will stop bothering you about the whole thing. Deal?"

Scott smiled in return and arched a brow. "John, I am going to take you up on that bet just to see you eat your words. Have our climbing equipment prepped and I will meet you at Thunderbird One tomorrow morning. What should our choice of mountain be?"

He had him. John resisted the urge to celebrate as he pondered Scott's question.

"Okay Scott, I have the perfect place in mind that should be nice and easy for a workaholic like you."

Scott glared at him. "Just be prepared to eat your words tomorrow."

Undaunted, John grinned and turned back towards his room.

--

_One day later -_

The pilot of the Tracy Enterprises plane was nervous. Once he had reached the United States, he had refueled in New York and was planning to drop off his cargo in Florida. He supposed it was the nature of the cargo that left him more than a little nervous. Since it was considered highly classified, all he had been told was that if his plane was in any trouble, that he should parachute out as soon as possible.

Not a comforting thought when high above the ground. The quicker he could get a pickup of his cargo the better.

_Time to let Mr. Tracy know where to pick up this stuff._

Before the pilot could activate his radio, a shudder ripped through his aircraft. He checked his gauges and sensors, puzzled. _What? It's clear as day out there. There shouldn't be any turbulence._

Seconds later, the aircraft shuddered again, and that was when he spotted a helicopter streaking past him, spitting fire from two guns mounted on either side of it.

_I'm being fired upon!_

Cursing, he poured on the speed, hoping to evade his pursuers, but they ended up settling the matter. The pilot watched the helicopters turn around and fire at him again.

The shots found their mark once again, and the pilot cursed as all of the gauges on the panel in front of him started going wild. The plane dipped and bobbed heavily, and it was all he could do to keep it from dropping like a rock.

Below him, a mountain range passed him a dizzying rate, and he did his best to snap himself to attention. He was in a plane with state of the art protective devices, and he had been hired straight from his stint in the Air Force. He would land this plane safely or die trying.

He pulled back on the stick, and the plane groaned in response bringing its nose up slightly. Punching the controls for the landing gear and the underside jets, he found them to be in working order, much to his relief.

The clink of the underside doors made him breathe a little easier, and the jets helped to slow his descent some. However, he still knew that he was going in way too fast.

Ahead of him, he spotted a small canyon. It looked to be a large rectangular section cut out of the rock. The pilot had no way of knowing if the bottom was even smooth enough for a landing. The engines had been barely hanging in there by that point, but they both finally cut out on him, leaving nothing but the rushing air and the sounds of the underside jets.

He wiped the sweat away from his forehead and quickly pondered his options_. Things just got a whole lot harder._

_--_

_Okay, this should only have one to two more parts. It is a short one, I promise! More later._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2-

Chaos erupted all around the pilot and he did his best to keep up.

After activating the force restraint safety systems installed on the craft, he said a silent prayer and started directing his falling craft towards the small canyon that he spotted. His gauges were still going wild, but one thing was sure, the mountain was coming up quickly to meet him.

The pilot made quick course corrections, lining up the sight of the canyon in the dead center of the cockpit window. The higher of the peaks were now surrounding him, and he seemed to be mere feet away from entering the canyon.

Seconds passed, and he pulled back on the control stick. He had to give his landing gear all the chances they could have of cushioning his fall. He was now below the top edge of the canyon. Even with the underside jets, the plane was still coming in too fast. He would have to time this just right.

The ground rushed up to meet him.

THUD!

The plane touched down hard and bounced up sharply. The pilot groaned when he heard the screeching of metal. Unless he missed his guess that meant that he had just lost one of his wheels on his landing gear, or worse.

The plane touched down again, and his suspicions were confirmed when the plane tilted sharply to the right. Vibrations rattled the plane hard, and the pilot kept a stranglehold on the control stick.

There was more screeching now and he heard two more loud metallic snaps. The underside jets cut out, and the plane slammed hard on the ground. A jolt of pain went through him, and the pilot would have passed out if not for the loud screeching sound as the plane slid along for a few seconds. Eventually the sounds died down and then the plane stopped moving, and all was silent once more.

Dazed, the pilot slowly looked around and realized that the plane itself had remained mostly intact. A quick check of his own health proved the same: there was a dull pain around his ribs, his head throbbed, and he was sure that his left arm was broken. Otherwise, he was alive.

Turning to his communicator, he tried activating it in hopes of getting out a distress call. Much to his frustration, no matter which switch he hit, the communicator didn't respond. Even the distress beacon that had been part of the communication system did not even sound off. Just great, first he was deliberately attacked, now this.

The only hope he had was to be seen by mountain climbers, which considering the terrain seemed more than unlikely. He leaned back against his seat and closed his eyes, hoping against hope that the people who shot him down would not find him first. Pain flashed through his head again, and he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

Help would come. He would simply have to wait.

--

An hour later, Thunderbird One touched down at the base of a large mountain peak. John and Scott got out and quickly unloaded the equipment from Thunderbird One's cargo hold. The two of them opted to wear blue jeans, but where John had chosen a short sleeved red shirt, Scott had chosen a dark blue one.

John smiled and took a deep breath of fresh air as he stared at the subject of their expedition. "It's a beautiful day, wouldn't you say, Scott?"

Scott stepped over to where John was and looked up. "So this was your choice for a mountain? Heh, I bet you we can be at the top by lunchtime."

Laughing, John shook his head. "No bet here - I know that look in your eye. Let's get prepped, shall we?"

Donning helmets and light backpacks, they each double-checked the ropes, clips, hooks, and harnesses that they brought with them. Finding them sound, they set to work.

--

By midday, John had reached the peak and pushed himself up to a small level area at the top. Adjusting the ropes, he then turned his attentions to Scott, who was about two feet away from reaching his position.

"Hey, anytime you're ready to join me Scott, please feel free," John called out jokingly as he helped steady his brother's line.

Below, Scott looked up at him and smirked. "Show-off. Mouth off any more and I will make sure you get stuck with cleaning Thunderbird One when we get back."

John kept the line steady as Scott closed the distance. Soon, he pulled himself up to join John at the top.

Scott stood up from his vantage point and took a deep breath inhaling the crisp air. "Okay, I will give you this, the view is quite incredible - you can see for miles."

John couldn't agree more. From their vantage point, the pale blue sky seemed to go on forever. The sky was clear, save for light wisps of clouds that hung lazily in the sky. Before them, John could see other small canyons and peaks, some flocked with bright green foliage and some as barren as the peak they had just climbed.

"Too bad that Alan had to miss out on this," John said. "I'm pretty sure our reception up here would be second to none. We could always contact him and let him know what he's missing out on."

Scott smirked. "He has a week left on his rotation, that'll rub it in for sure."

Turning around, John took in the view until a glint from the small canyon below stopped him cold. "Scott- before we left, you hadn't received any reports of plane crashes that people were still searching for did you?"

Frowning, Scott replied. "No, why?"

John pointed down at an object in the canyon. "That's why. Look over there."

Scott followed John's gaze and he was grim. The canyon they were looking into was small and almost box-like, but it was the wreckage of the plane that had their attention. From their distance, they could just barely make out the outline of the plane, but it was easy to see that the plane had gone through something violent. It sat flat on the ground at an unnatural angle, and he could see various bits of metal trailing along behind the wreck.

He heard John speak. "We better call this in, Scott."

"Agreed."

—

Alan Tracy walked around Thunderbird Five giving the control panels a good polish. For once, things were quiet, and he had everything caught up. The hourly report was done, and the communication chatter around the world seemed quiet. The ultimate plus of this was that he wasn't up on some crazy piece of rock trying to find footholds. _Give me a nice stretch of road on a sunny day - now that's a perfect day._

He was determined to go grab the video game he had brought up with him if things stayed this quiet.

Suddenly, the communication console squawked to life. A brief stab of disappointment surged through Alan as he walked over to acknowledge the hail. "Thunderbird Five from Scott."

He just couldn't win. John had nabbed Scott for a relaxing day of rock climbing. In the end, he still couldn't get away from his big brothers for more than a few hours. Snapping a switch on the panel, Alan quickly spoke. "Thunderbird Five receiving. Scott, you are supposed to be mountain climbing and I call you if anything is going on, not the other way around."

Scott's reply was quick and harsh. "Alan, get your head on straight. We just climbed a peak, and we've spotted a plane wreck on the ground in a canyon below us. I am going to point my watch at it. I want you to see if you can capture a good video image and see if you can find out anything about this wreck."

Plane crash? Alan cleared out all previous thoughts from his mind. He walked over to one of the video monitors and quickly adjusted it to receive video images from Scott's tele-com. "Okay, I'm ready when you are."

"FAB."

—

Scott pressed a button on his tele-com and then pointed it towards the direction of the plane wreck.

He had remembered talking with Brains over a family dinner one time, and the scientist/engineer had made a comment that the zoom and focus power of the camera within the tele-com could pick out details of the smallest print from considerable distances. He knew they might not get anything from it, but it had to be worth the try - they had nothing else to go on.

Minutes later, he heard Alan's voice from the watch. "Okay Scott, I've received the image. Now let me work with a little and see what we can get."

—

On Thunderbird Five, Alan got the image of the plane wreck into an imaging monitor. It was small from their distance, but he had managed to center it up on the screen. Using the attached keyboard, Alan worked with the image, blowing it up and adjusting it until he could just make out the first three letters of what looked like a FAA number. Following a hunch, Alan turned to another computer and made a quick check of FAA records and cross referenced them with recent takeoffs from airports around the world. It took nearly five minutes, but the information that the computer came back with chilled him to the bone. Only one plane starting with those letters took off recently, it had been coming from Britain, and the owner of the plane was someone familiar to them. "Scott, you're not going to believe this, but that plane belongs to Tracy Enterprises."

—

It was Scott's turn to be shocked. "What? Alan, repeat that last piece of information for the benefit of John here. What did you say?"

"I said that the plane in question belongs to Tracy Enterprises. In two words, dad's company."

Scott protested. "But Alan, we hadn't received any indications of any crashes or anything of that nature."

"Believe me Scott, if I has seen anything come up about that, you two would have been the first to know. I tried to find an indication of a flight plan, but none had been filed, so that's a dead end. I just made a search of the media outlets and none of them have picked up on a disappeared plane."

Scott thought for a moment and then turned to John. Gone was the countenance of someone trying to have fun. "Well, it looks like we have a mystery on our hands. The question is: what do we do with it?"

John shook his head. "You know what we need to do with it, Scott." He held up his own wrist and activated his tele-com. "Base from John. Come in please."

--


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Jeff Tracy was enjoying a somewhat quiet morning at his desk with a cup of coffee and a few reports. Hours ago, Gordon and Virgil left out on a distress call, and Tin-Tin and Kyrano were still asleep.

The beeping of an incoming transmission startled him out of his reverie, and he looked up. On the far wall, the portraits of his sons were lined up in a row, carefully concealing communication screens should the need arise to contact them at a moment's notice.

In this case, the eyes of John's portrait were flashing intently.

Jeff wasn't expecting any communications from him - he knew that John was supposed to be relaxing on a day of mountain climbing with Scott. Pressing a button under his desk, John's comm screen flared to life, showing John standing somewhere outdoors. Smiling, he greeted his son. "Go ahead John. What's going on? Aren't you two supposed to be relaxing with a little mountain climbing?"

"Relaxing is good only if you don't find something troubling, father," John replied. "Alan is about to transmit an image to you. It looks like a Tracy Enterprises plane has crashed into a canyon out here."

Crashed? Jeff thought in confusion, running through his head the possible planes that could fit that scenario until his thoughts turned back to the conversation that he had with Sir Jeremy only recently. "Tell Alan to go ahead and transmit that image."

"FAB. You should be receiving it in a few seconds."

Jeff turned around to his computer and watched as the picture that Alan transmitted slowly loaded onto the screen. Alan had done a good job in getting the details off of that plane, and from what Jeff could tell, his worst fears were recognized. It was the plane Sir Jeremy had told him to expect with the cargo of experimental fuel.

Options ran through Jeff's mind until he finally settled on one. "John, can you and Scott reach that canyon with the equipment you have?"

On the screen, John seemed lost in thought before he replied. "I believe so, Father, but it will take time."

Jeff nodded, reaffirming the decision in his mind. "I want you two to go ahead and see if you can reach that plane. Take every precaution you can. Administer first aid to the pilot and secure the cargo – if it is leaking or if anything looks out of the ordinary, get the pilot out of there and leave it. Virgil and Gordon are on a rescue that should just be wrapping up now, and I will have them rendezvous with you as soon as they can."

"FAB."

--

John turned to his brother Scott. "It looks like we need to repel to the canyon floor to check out the danger zone. Gordon and Virgil will be here as soon as they can."

Scott looked down at the canyon one more time before turning to their equipment. "Let's get to work then."

Securing their clips and lines, they clipped onto the ropes and began the descent down to the canyon floor. It was slow work, and they had to adjust their footing more than once, but soon both John and Scott felt their feet touch the bottom of the canyon.

Detaching himself from his line, Scott turned to survey the side of the canyon they were on. There were assorted bits of plants and brush where they were. A few yards away held a different story. He could see a deep gouge in the ground that extended to where the plane was. "Looks like the plane came down hard, belly first. There are pieces of what looks like landing gear over near the opposite side of the canyon. This was a very violent landing."

After quickly detaching from his own line, John went over to join his brother. "Come on. Let's get over to the wreck and check on the pilot. The plane should have been outfitted with Brains safety and restraint devices. Hopefully they protected the pilot."

Backpacks in hand, they quickly made their way over to the plane. The air around them swirled with the wind which had kicked up – a sound that made John very uneasy.

Scott surveyed the damage on the plane, trying to get a feel for its last few minutes of flight, when he spotted something that made his blood run cold. "John, do you see what I see?"

John looked where Scott indicated, and spotted the signs of a deliberate attack. The holes and indentations on the plane's tail section and wing were unmistakable.

"Gun fire?" John asked nervously, looking about in the sky around them. "But I don't see or hear anything in the air now."

Scott shook his head. "Someone brought down this plane down for a reason. " All of a sudden he didn't like where they were sitting. "Let's check the restraints and the pilot. We need to be ready to move any time."

They walked carefully around to the pilot's side and peeked in. The pilot was slumped back in his seat, and his eyes were closed. The cockpit door was bent in several places, but seemed to be intact.

Scott tried the latch on the door. "It's jammed."

His brother motioned him aside. "I was wondering when we would get a chance to field test some gear. Brains gave a miniature laser to bring with us. I told him I wasn't sure when we would get a chance to try it, but now seems the perfect time as any."

Scott watched as John reached into his backpack and pulled out what looked like a small metal tube. Covered with diodes and a red button on the center of the tube, it looked not unlike the gadgets of sci-fi shows. "Brains sure is getting craftier with every turn."

John chuckled. "He told me he was going to try and fit the same laser technology in the space of a matchbook next. Better stand back."

Scott backed up a few paces out into the open, and John set to work. Pointing the laser just above the latch, he pressed the red button. A brilliant red beam of energy shot forth, neatly burning a hole into the metal. Carefully, he moved his arm in a circle, effectively cutting out the latch from the door. When he completed the circuit, John pressed the red button again to power down the laser.

Pocketing the laser, he then pressed forward on the latch. The section of metal separated neatly from the rest of the door, and it fell inward with a metallic clang.

John reached inside the hole and managed to wrestle the door open. "And we are in. The pilot doesn't look too bad, and I see some sort of small box tethered in the back with some sort of white tarp. That must be the cargo father told us about."

Suddenly John heard a loud whistling noise from behind him. "What the-"

The whistling noise was quickly followed by a dull thud and Scott crying out in pain. Turning around, John saw a hole appear in Scott's shoulder, along with a dark stain on his shirt.

"Scott!"

--

_Thought I would leave this chapter with a cliffhanger. Developing this story from the initial outline, I see that there will be at least two more chapters – not quite the short story I had planned, but I think it will work out. _

_Big thanks to Tikatu and Miss Bump – I didn't pay proper attention to what I was uploading with chapter two and missed quite a few things. I have since reworked some of the passages and did another spelling sweep. It is being uploaded along with this chapter. More coming soon._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Shutting the pilot's door quickly, John grabbed for Scott's good arm and pulled him forward and under the shadow of the nearby wing. Luckily they were on the side of the plane that had dipped towards the ground. The more cover between them and whoever was shooting at them, the better.

Hissing in pain, Scott leaned against the body of the plane and slid to the ground into a sitting position. "I didn't see anything, did you?"

John shook his head intently as he sat down beside Scott. "This canyon is pretty long, and we were focusing on the plane. We were like sitting ducks - anyone could have gotten the jump on us. We need to warn Virgil and Gordon."

Checking his tele-com, John found that the reception from the watch left much to be desired. There was electrical snow and distortion on the tiny screen, but he still managed to contact Alan. "Alan - warn Virgil and Gordon. We are pinned down. Scott has been shot. We need Thunderbird Two here now!"

--

Alan's heart raced. He remembered what his father said about the fuel and considering the potential players in the game, he didn't want to test out how stable it could be under gunfire.

He did as instructed and signaled Virgil and Gordon. "Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird Five."

--

Virgil and Gordon were plotting their course to John and Scott's location. Their father had clued them in to what was happening, and they were speeding to the danger zone when they heard Alan's hail. "Thunderbird Two from Thunderbird Five."

"Thunderbird Two here," Gordon acknowledged. "Father filled us in the details, Alan. How are they doing?"

"Not good. They were ambushed, Scott has been shot, and both he and John are pinned down in that canyon by someone that is firing on them still. Not sure if someone is after the fuel cargo the plane is carrying, but they are in trouble."

"FAB, Alan. Our current ETA is twenty minutes but we should be able to better that. Hold on Gordon." Virgil declared, "Going to maximum speed - now."

Virgil pushed a lever forward and felt the additional boost as Thunderbird two blasted forward towards the danger zone.

--

After confirming the information with Thunderbird Two, Alan updated his father and sat back to wait.

Thunderbird Two would reach the danger zone in twenty minutes. He had alerted the authorities in the area to their plight but deliberately made sure that they left out their suspicions of why the intruders were there.

There wasn't much more he could do, but he was worried about John and Scott. They had no weapons and little cover. Alan decided to check on them to see if there was anything he could do.

He was more than disheartened when his initial hails went unanswered.

_Come on guys, please answer._

--

John kept his head low as he watched Scott awkwardly shrug off his backpack. Digging around one handed, Scott grabbed for the towel that he had been using to keep the sweat off of his face and applied pressure to his arm. "I'm probably not going to be much help. My arm is feeling numb already."

John swore. "The only weapon I have is the miniature laser Brains gave me and it is not going to be much of a weapon. It's much better in a short range situation. I can't even tell how many attackers are out there."

Suddenly a volley of gunfire came at them, kicking up dirt and dust. A few bullets hit the wing they were under, but luckily it held under the barrage.

As the noise leveled off, John finally heard his tele-com signal an incoming transmission, and then the idea came to him. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that?" He lifted his wrist. "I read you Alan. Listen, focus a communications scan in our general area with a radius of one hundred miles. The people shooting at us have to be communicating with someone somehow. We need to know what we are dealing with here."

"FAB."

John waited precious moments as another volley of bullets buffered the craft. The way the bullets are falling seemed suspicious to him. "I have a feeling that they know what's in this plane, Scott. They are trying to drive us away from here. We can't stay here."

Scott looked up at the pilot. "We haven't even properly assessed the pilot yet. We don't know if he can be moved."

John watched the pilot and noticed that the man was breathing at the very least. "He's still alive, but you're right. We can't leave him here."

--

Finally, Alan's voice came back through the Tele-com. "John, from the radio chatter it looks like there's at least three at the other end of the canyon that got dropped off by a helicopter that is only a few miles away. From what I can tell, their orders are to secure the cargo of experimental fuel and kill anyone that may stand in their way."

Sounds like anyone desperate enough, John thought wryly and then looked around the canyon. On their side of the canyon there were some low lying bushes scattered about. Not much cover for anything at all and with Scott wounded, his brother wouldn't be able to defend himself properly, much less help get the pilot out of the danger zone. Their best cover was still under the wing of the plane and even that couldn't stand up to the gunfire for much longer if they were attacked again. "Alan, ETA for Virgil and Gordon?"

"They are at maximum speed now and should be heading your way in ten minutes. The local authorities are calling for two helicopters and paramedics and they should be in the air and to you in about the same time. I know that look, John what are you planning?"

John gave a wry smile. In ten minutes, they could all be dead unless he did something about it. "Am I that of much an open book? I have a plan, Alan, and I need you to keep an ear out for Scott."

With that declaration, John turned off his tele-com and scrambled to his feet.

"You better not do what I think you are about to do."

Scott's voice was hard edged, and his demeanor told John that his brother was trying to impose his authority as field commander of International Rescue.

John shook his head, and then opened the pilot's door quickly, scrambling into the cargo area. Seconds later he emerged with the tarp and the cargo case. Handing Scott the cargo, he made his case. "I can buy us the ten minutes we need, Scott. You have the fuel and the pilot to see to, not to mention protecting yourself."

Scott looked unsteady and lost in thought for a moment before he finally replied. "I better see you back here in one piece in ten minutes."

John nodded, noting the pained and worried look on his brother's face. He realized that Scott didn't like the situation either, but had come to the same realization: they needed to buy more time. "FAB. I'll be careful, I promise. Now stay here."

Taking slow and deliberate steps, John walked out from under the cover of the plane's wing, holding the white tarp high and shouting. "I surrender!"

* * *

_Yes, it's another cliffhanger. Yes, I will update soon. Does John know what he is doing? Well now, you will just have to wait and see, now won't you? _


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The three men slowly advanced towards the fallen plane.

The leader of the group was tall and muscular, and his short black hair rustled in the breeze that had stirred up around them in the canyon. His voice was low but held an impatient tone. "Mac, Rogan, did you get the intruders?"

Mac stood on the left side of the leader, his laser scope rifle at the ready. Slightly shorter and thinner, his long brown hair was slicked back and the black t-shirt he was wearing was already plastered with sweat. He sneered before checking his scope again. "I know I plugged one of them in the shoulder, boss."

Rogan stood on the other side of the leader. He too was armed with a laser scope rifle but where Mac short and thin, Rogan was much stockier and his black hair was tied low into a ponytail.

He wiped his brow and gazed out over the wreck. "Well, I dunno about that, but there's no movement now."

The leader motioned forward. "C'mon, the quicker we can get that cargo, the quicker we can get out of this hole and get paid."

They advanced forward. Mac and Rogan held their weapons at the ready. All seemed quiet.

"I surrender!"

The trio halted in their tracks at the unexpected shout. Mac aimed his weapon at the wreck in a reflex motion.

"Wait," motioned the leader. "Stand down. Let's see who emerges from the wreck."

A moment later, they watched as a man emerged from the wreck. Dressed in a red shirt and jeans, Rogan recognized him as one of the intruders that they were trying to drive away.

Smiling now, the leader stepped forward. "This area is not safe for you, friend. Where's your buddy that you climbed down with?"

The man stepped closer to them. He looked truly nervous, and his voice wavered. "Your goons shot him. He's unconscious back there. All we were looking for was some fun climbing and repelling. I don't even know what all of this is about."

Rogan laughed as the leader asked. "What's your name?"

The man thought for about a minute before replying. "John."

The leader's smile never wavered. "John? Well John, you and your friend have climbed into an issue that you can't leave from."

--

John Tracy swore up and down that he would never underestimate the power of time again. He had hoped playing the part of an innocent mountain climber would buy some more time, but judging by the murderous look on the faces of the two men carrying guns, his chances were quickly dwindling down to nothing. He had one option left, and if he had remembered the information correctly about the laser that Brains had given him, it meant that he had to get closer to them.

Channeling the nervousness he felt into his act, John took a step forward, letting the tarp he had been holding drop to the ground. "Surely we can work this out. My father is quite wealthy and-"

All three men had stepped forward until they were within ten feet of him. The man in the center of the group sneered. "Ready to die, John?"

Forcing himself to take a deep breath, John checked his watch. Two minutes left until help arrived. He had once made fun of his brothers for watching classic Japanese anime where the average five minute battle lasted ten episodes. Now when it mattered, time did seem to slow to a standstill. At the least, they didn't seem to know that he was a Thunderbird. John was pretty sure he would have already been dead if the men had suspected that of him.

John hadn't been this nervous since his first trip into space.

_Stick to the plan. Virgil and Gordon will make it in time and Scott will be okay._

Keeping that mantra running through his mind, John took a slight step forward and lowered his arms. He had to time this just right.

John eased his hand down into his jeans pocket until he felt his fingers close around the barrel of the laser. The men were now less than ten yards away, well within the range of the laser per Brains' specifications. "You know, I'll have to thank you for walking closer. It will make it all the easier to take you down."

John quickly brought out the miniature laser and fired, striking the man closest to him.

--

When John had approached him, Mac was ready to carry out his orders to the letter. He was tired of the great outdoors anyway.

When John had gone for his pockets, Mac wasn't sure what to make of it. This hiker didn't SEEM to be armed.

When Mac saw the metal barrel of something in John's hand, he knew that he needed to act. He swung his rifle back up to a firing position.

That was when he saw a quick flash, then a searing pain along his gun arm. Screaming in pain, Mac grabbed for his arm, which was now pointed in the wrong direction. As he dropped his weapon, Mac heard the sound of his weapon firing. He fell backward to the ground in defense, hoping that he took out that crazy hiker.

When he heard Rogan scream and curse in pain, Mac knew that he was a dead man.

--

John smiled in grim satisfaction. Only mere seconds elapsed between his firing the laser and the two armed men going down hard. Both of them were on the ground writhing in pain, but the leader of the group had ducked out of the way and rolled out of the range of the gunfire.

John tensed and prepared to fire again, knowing that the leader only needed to dive forward and pick up one of the rifles to make his victory a short lived one.

"John!"

John cursed inwardly as he heard Scott cry out, realizing that his brother had come out of hiding. Keeping the laser aimed on the leader, he backpedaled for a few feet until he nearly collided with Scott. John was angry at his brother for putting himself into the line of fire, but the leader didn't know how badly Scott was hurt, so maybe he could play this up to his advantage. "Scott, hold this. It's the little red button on the top and make sure you point it at them, okay?"

John slapped the laser into Scott's good hand and then ran back towards the group, quickly picking up the discarded rifles and directing a cold smile at the leader. "Don't even think about trying anything," he warned with a chipper edge to his voice, turning to point at Scott. "See that guy back there? He's my brother and when your guys shot him, you made a very bad enemy. He'd probably would have shot you long before now if I wasn't here, right Scotty?"

Scott was pale, but judging by the firm nod his brother gave, John felt relieved to know that he was still coherent.

Seconds later, John turned around and listened, noting the sounds of helicopters along with a familiar whine of engines that seemed to be coming their way. The leader of the group quickly scrambled to his feet and smiled. "That would be the helicopter that put us here. They are well armed, and will kill you. You will regret crossing us."

John shook his head in disbelief. He had heard the helicopters, sure, but he also recognized the engine noise as soon as he heard it. "You really need to get out more in the great outdoors or at least hang around more flying machines. That would be MY ride."

Sure enough, Thunderbird Two's looming form cast a long shadow over the canyon. Two Helicopters flanked her, which John assumed was the authorities that Alan had called.

Eyes wide, the leader fell back down to his knees in shock.

--

Three hours later, John found himself in a small hospital room in a nearby town watching Scott sleep off the effects of the sedation from the surgery to stitch up his shoulder. A lot of things had gone wrong today, but luckily a lot of things went right.

After the authorities arrived and explanations were made, paramedics checked on the pilot and found that with the exception of some broken ribs and a broken leg, he was basically fine and would be quickly on the mend. Brains would be happy to find out that his restraint system worked to save the life of one of their father's employees.

The authorities had arrested the three men and were holding them on numerous charges, including the attempted murder of the pilot and Scott. They had also managed to track down the helicopter that had delivered the three men into the canyon and arrested them.

"John?"

The question was weak, but John felt immense relief when he saw Scott's eyes staring up at him. "Yes, I'm here. To answer any possible questions you might have: yes we got the bad guys; the pilot is okay, save for a few broken bones. We managed to secure the fuel, the doctor used a twelve inch needle on you to knock you out for surgery, and after an hour of nervous pacing on my part, you are now properly stitched up. Oh, and Alan called to say that father said that you were to follow my orders for the next few days, since I have been given the dubious honor of watching over you and taking you home to dad and grandma, who will probably ply you with enough pie to make you gain five pounds."

Scott tried to chuckle, but he ended up wincing instead. "Okay, I get it and I'm sorry. You have to admit, it was dicey there for a while. When I heard those cries of pain, I feared the worst."

John sobered at the comment. _Leave it to Scott to get to the point. _

Sighing, he sank into a cushioned arm chair that was placed right by Scott's bed. "It was the longest ten minutes of my life, I'll say that much."

Scott closed his eyes and slowly nodded in agreement. "Mine too. But you know what? As soon as I recover, I want to go mountain climbing with you again."

John smiled warily. "Really? Well, after a day like that one, I'm in the mood for something a little safer. Scott, how do you feel about swimming with sharks?"

--

_And this was the other part of NANO 2007. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. :) _


End file.
